There is nothing worse than waking up after a night of drinking and not knowing who is lying next to you.

Or how you met.

Or why they're dead.

Aaron lets out a grunt of exhausted horror and recoils from the body, rolling over until he falls off the bed with a loud thud! He lies there for a few long moments, contemplating whether the noise will bring his roommate in - because that is not a conversation he wants to have with a hangover - and what happened last night and why the ever loving hell there's a dead body in his bed.

This is why he doesn't drink.

After massaging his temple thoroughly, Aaron pulls himself to his feet. He groans every step of the way. It's been so long, he thinks he's forgotten what a hangover feels like. Well, he internally monologues, he won't be forgetting that again soon. Finally standing, he gazes at the body in his bed. The horror has faded considerably, and has been overtaken with morbid curiosity. Who is it? How did they get there?

Why are they dead?

The body is female. It is slight and pale, and has blonde hair that cascades gracefully over the pillow - his pillow, and he can't help but think that it is traditionally beautiful.

A shame that she's dead.

Ok, Aaron reminds himself, it's time to get over the whole dead thing. It's distracting him.

Its just...she's dead. In his bed. And either Alexander is severely affecting him or he's still a little drunk because he takes a second to appreciate how that rhymes.

Anyway, onto the subject at hand. Body disposal. Aaron is an expert at body disposal, which now he thinks about it probably isn't a thing to brag about. It's...he glances at the clock...almost 11:30 in the morning. Not the best time for getting rid of a body. And, he remembers as he moves his head a bit too quickly and is overtaken by a mind numbing headache, he is severely hungover.

He comes up with a plan, or as much of a plan as he could at that moment in those circumstances. He will consume a hangover tonic, call his friends then work on remembering what on earth happened last night. When his friends arrive, they will brainstorm together and, having come up with a good idea, will successfully dispose of the body. That was dead. And in his bed. And staring at him with glassy, all seeing eyes and judging him and oh god he reaches across and snaps the eyelids closed before he can think it through, and then takes a few moments to freak out because oh my god he just touched a dead body.

Then he leaves the room, stumbling. The picture of grace. And the whole way he is wondering why the dead body leaves him so shaken. After all, it's not like it's his first.

He is a super villain, after all.

There is nothing worse than waking up after a night of drinking and not knowing who's you are wearing.

And who's shirt you're wearing.

And who's body you're wearing.

Alex sits up frantically, eyes wide. Then he sweeps his legs out of the bed and almost runs to the mirror to see what the hell he looks like. He's in his twenties, perhaps a little older than his actual self. He's blonde. And petite. And...female?

Huh. Actually, he's not that bad looking. Then realizes how messed up that is and stops thinking about it quickly.

He pulls out his phone (which is, by the way, encased in jello. What the hell happened last night?) from his pocket and shakes it a few times until it's dry. Then he takes a quick selfie in the mirror. He can't change without somebody to model the change after, and he doesn't recognize this girl at all. And since he doesn't recognize who she is...who knows what she knows.

Nobody can know.

With a shiver up his spine, Alex changes back to his original form. He studies himself in the mirror almost as intensely as he had studied the girl. He can't help but feel a stab of...disappointment? It's like every time he is someone else, he builds his actual form up to being some incredible, perfect image. But it's not. It's really not.

It these ridiculously deep thoughts that alert Alex to the fact that he's more than a little hungover. He's had worse, of course, but the average person probably hasn't. So he moves slowly towards the kitchen, planning on a tonic and hoping desperately that his idiot of a roommate was out. Aaron was the sort of person who would lecture their poor, innocent roommate mercilessly for getting drunk.

But hey, getting drunk was part of the job. Speaking of the job, he remembers, he has to call his gang. He will need some help tracking down the woman that he woke up as. He resolves to do it after taking a nice, disgusting tonic. And so he sets off to the kitchen, stumbling the whole way. And while he moves, he tries to push down the foreboding feeling that is trying to over taking him. Who is that girl? How did they meet? What did she know? Finding her would be a long, hard job. But he knows he's up to it, he's used to long, hard jobs.

Thats what being a super hero is all about.

Alexander is in the kitchen. That is never a good sign, Aaron knows, and not only because the man can't cook to save his life. Alexander is brash, and loud, and he talks. With a splitting headache like Aaron's, that can be really annoying. Hell, Aaron finds it annoying even when he's in perfectly good health.

The two aren't a good match. While Alexander almost seems like he's on a perpetual sugar high, constantly making quick, stupid decisions (that often, to Aaron's despair, end up working at the end of the day), Aaron is more withdrawn. He listens, he observes, he plans. He doesn't blurt out everything, like a certain roommate of his. He's calm and collected; it keeps him alive on the field.

So how on earth have they ended up sharing an apartment? Honestly, Aaron asks himself that everyday. Peggy, a friend of theirs, says it is fate. Another friend, Lafayette, claims that they are friends beneath the outward hostility, and that rooming together proves it.

In all honestly, though, it's a lot closer to being the direct product of America's financial system. Or, more precisely, they are both extraordinarily broke. They both needed someone to split a rent with, and the other was the only option. It has been a year since college has ended, and they have been living together since. For a while, Aaron searched desperately for a way to make money and find his own living quarters but...recently those efforts have decreased drastically. He tells himself this doesn't not mean that he doesn't want to get as far away from Alexander as possible, just that he is growing complacent.

He is not sure what Alexander himself thinks of the arrangement. The man, for all of his idiotic openness, is surprisingly hard to read at times.

That isn't to say that he has any deep, hidden depths though, Aaron is sure. No one that annoying could be anything more than a pest.

Speaking of, as Aaron stumbles into the kitchen Alexander perks up and, oh god, begins to speak. "Aaron! What's up with you? You look like hell. Wait...wait, no way. Oh-oh my god, you're hungover!" He gasps unnecessarily, "Ha! Haha, oh this is priceless! Mr 'Oh I'm too good to drink, Alexander you should diet more and not drink so much and not mix Red Bull and coffee together' is hungover!"

Aaron raises an eyebrow, disgusted. "You mix Red Bull and coffee?"

"Don't turn this back on me!" Alexander snaps, and Aaron winces at the sharp noise. Noticing, Alexander lowers his voice.

"Hey, I've got some spare tonic. Drink up, try not to puke, then we'll talk."

Aaron rolls his eyes, but is too desperate to say no to the offer. So, after Alexander pours it, he takes a glass of the strange, yellow/green substance and downs it in one. Then he tries not no throw it back up, because John F. Kennedy that stuff is disgusting. After a minute of desperate struggling with his gag reflex, he manages to swallow. Then he turns, horrified, to Alexander, who is calmly sipping his own glass and watching.

"Are you trying to poison me! What the hell was in that?"

Alexander shakes his head, slowly and solemnly. "Trust me, you don't want to know." And as much as Aaron doesn't want him to be right, he is inclined to believe him. He changes the subject.

"Ok, ok. I don't care. I'm going back to bed-" and then he remembers the dead woman in his bed. "No, never mind. I'm going to lie on the couch and try not to die."

Alexander snorts. "Jesus, you're weak as hell. Is this why you don't drink, because you can't hold your liquor."

Aaron groans, and decides to be the bigger person. And then he realizes, oh god. Why did Alexander have the tonic ready? Why was he drinking it himself? Despite the picture Aaron often painted of his roommate, and despite his closest friends' drinking habits, Alexander wasn't drunk that often. For them to have been drinking so heavily on the same night... could only mean that Alexander had been there. As much as the couch is calling to him, he decides he has to know. "Hey, don't laugh at my inability to drink but...what happened last night?

Alexander shrugs. "I dunno, I was drunk as hell. I don't remember anything-" his brow crinkles, and he continues slower, "I...don't remember anything. Not sounds, not lights, not places." His eyes widen and he meets Aaron's gaze. "I don't remember anything."

Aaron feels dread settle in his gut. Apparently forgetting everything isn't normal, and an abnormal loss of memory in his line of work can only mean one thing. An attack. And this time, not just an attack on his villain persona. Not even just an attack on him. His personal life has been involved, Alexander has been involved. And as much as he hates the guy...that's not ok. It's an invasion of privacy, his and Alexander's both.

He gulps. "Right, right, well...I'm sure it was just some very, smokin hot liquor, hey." Alexander shoots him a look. "Wha-is that not what people say?'

"No one has literally ever said that. Like, ever."

Aaron fights embarrassment, but at least it worked. Alexander has been distracted, he's not worried anymore. Now that's sorted, Aaron can get to work. And there's a lot of work to do.

He needs to find out what happened last night, find out who is to blame. He needs to keep an eye on Alexander, make sure he remains safe. And on that note, he will have to look out for his other, non-powered friends too. Eliza, Peggy, John, Hercules, George and Lafayette...that's a lot of people he needs to look out for.

And, of course, he needs to investigate that damn dead girl in his bed.

After a half hearted excuse to Alexander, he moves quickly. He throws on a jacket and trousers, and then boots it. His phone is out his pocket and calling before he even makes it out of the door. The person on the other side picks up on the second ring.

"Aaron? What's up-"

"It's an emergency. Get the others, and meet me at Area 3 ASAP."

He calls a cab to be inconspicuous (with the intention of switching cabs multiple times on his journey), and is halfway across the city when it suddenly occurs to him that in his hangover stupor, he didn't lock his bedroom door.

Oh dear.

I shouldn't have written this. I promised myself I would finish my other stories before starting a new one.

Oh well.

Credit for this idea goes to Ravenclaw4life (guest account). They suggested a superhero AU, and I couldn't help myself. So yeah, I'm blaming them for my inability to stick to my plans. Sorry Ravenclaw. Also, now I have an AU set in modern day times I hope to include a lot of the prompts people have sent me. I have so many ideas ( you, Ravenclaw4life and StayyheyyHayy. Thanks so much :))

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! Have a lovely day.